Obliviate
by NerdyPotatoFacedLoser97
Summary: War heroes Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley are about to tie the knot. But the lines of love and loyalty become blurred when a desperate figure from their past brings some interesting twists to the bride's understanding of herself.


" **If anyone here present knows of any reason why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."**

 **The silence is deafening. But it does not last for long as the young man concealed at the back of the church steps out of the shadows and the room fills with gasps and panicked whispers.**

" **I object."**

" **What?" the groom asked, "Why could you possibly object, Malfoy? And don't give us any crap about blood purity."**

" **Well, Weasley," the blonde replied slowly, "Memorium Incantatum." A bright light shot from the end of his wand and the entire congregation found themselves standing on a train inside the memories of Draco Malfoy.**

" **I don't know that spell," said Hermione, the awestruck bride.**

" **That's because I invented it. I still need to get it approved though, it was supposed to be a surprise," muttered Harry.**

Just then the door of the compartment – which somehow managed to contain everyone plus three eleven year old boys – slid open to reveal a bushy haired girl in brand new school robes. In her left hand she clutched a book, and in her right was her wand.

"Have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one," she asked.

"Um, I don't think so. But we'll keep a look out for you," replied the younger version of Draco.

"Thank you, I'll be back in a couple of minutes to check," and Hermione flounced off.

"She seemed alright, don't you think?" he probed his companions.

"I dunno," came the voice of the first, Goyle.

"But I bet she was a muggleborn," was Crabbe's reply, "Don't want to be talking to her."

"Ugh, true."

Draco sighed. He was never fully convinced by this view. It was shared by his father and all of his father's associates, which meant it had been drilled into him for a long time. The only thing that stopped him from conforming completely was his mother. She did not seem to be part of this elitist society. Sure, she was there and she acted the part well, but he knew that in secret she still wrote letters to her 'blood traitor' sister. The sister who married a muggleborn. If his mother could stand to contact his aunt, then how could they be as awful as he was taught they were? Of course he would not vocalised these thoughts to his apparently dim-witted acquaintances.

Instead he chose to exit the compartment and stroll towards the candy trolley laden with sweets. Unfortunately, he was so determined to get to a packet of droobles that he did not notice the girl from before leaving the compartment to his right. The two children smacked into each other and fell onto the floor in a heap. Then they scrambled apart, stood up, and tried to regain their composure.

"I'm so sorry," she started.

"No, no. It's ok. I should have looked where I was going," he assured her.

"So, what's your name? I'm Hermione Granger. I'm a first year. But both my parents are muggles, so I don't really know what to expect."

They sat down in an empty, nearby compartment.

"My name is Draco Malfoy. I am a first year too."

"Really? I do hope we can be friends. Not everyone I've met seems to appreciate that I've read Hogwarts: A History already. I just wanted to do some research before I came."

"I – I can't be friends with you," he sighed wistfully, "It's not that I don't want to. I'm very impressed that you've done so much research, I'd do the same if it were me. And you're the only person my age that I know who has also read that book."

"But, why can't we?" she enquired, an upset look on her small face.

"My family. Well, my father. He has forbidden me from being friends with anyone who has non-magical parents."

"Oh," she said quietly.

To which he hastily replied, "I don't believe any of that stuff! But I can't disobey him, if he found out I'd be in so much trouble."

"What if he didn't find out?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not one for breaking rules, but I am one for friendship. Perhaps we could be friends in secret. If no one knew, your father could never find out."

"But if I am supposed to hate you, how can we be friends?"

"Easy, we'll argue and name call and be downright awful to each other in public. But we won't mean any of it. And we'll know that the other doesn't mean it. So in private, we can be friends."

He was starting to like this girl. She was cunning and clever, which prompted him to accept her offer. And the parted to their separate compartments with small knowing smiles gracing their lips.

" **Wait, what?" Ron asked, gobsmacked.**

" **Be quiet please, Ron," Hermione requested.**

" **But-" he began, however his fiancée shut him up with a glare.**

" **Please, I don't remember," she said, now facing Draco with a bewildered expression.**

" **I know," came his desperate voice.**

" **But I feel like I ought to. It feels so familiar."**

 **And the scene changed.**

There was two children hiding behind a large oak tree, giggling together as best friends do. They peered around the tree to gaze in wonder as the distinguished prefect, Percy Weasley, flapped around in a strop, searching for the culprit who were responsible for the feathers now completely covering every available surface of his school supplies.

With baited breath they waited until he had rushed past their concealed spot, before collapsing in laughter with tears in their amused eyes.

"Did you see his face?" Draco cried in glee.

"He – he looked so confused!" replied his Gryffindor companion.

When they had calmed down, they sank to the floor. Both children sighed. This was the time they always looked forward to, the time when they could be together. It was harder pretending to hate each other than they had originally thought. Yelling at each other seem wrong somehow, when they didn't mean it. And lying to their other friends felt wrong as well.

"Do you think what we're doing is wrong?" Hermione asked.

"Perhaps," Draco replied, "But you know why we have to do this."

"I know, I just wish we didn't, that s all. I want to spend more time with you."

"Me too."

Then they went silent. It was not an awkward silence, merely a long one, but comfortable none the less.

" **You were actually friends?" Harry asked, curiously.**

" **Yes. We were best friends," said Draco wistfully.**

" **So why doesn't Herms remember it?" Ron butted in, "Or is this just some ploy to ruin our wedding?!"**

" **Of course not, you idiot! Even I'm not that cruel."**

 **The mist clouded up around the guests, and the memory changed again.**

"How could you?!" screamed Hermione, she was close to tears.

"I didn't mean it! You know I didn't! That's what we do, isn't it? We insult each other!" the blonde yelled back.

"But you went too far this time!"

"But I didn't mean it!"

"I don't care if you didn't mean it, Draco, it still hurt!"

"Please, Hermione. You have to forgive me. I should have thought it through."

They stopped arguing for a second, as they stood in the empty hallway, and just looked at each other. Halfway into their second year, and they were already at each other's throats. And as his friend finally burst into tears, Draco stood there with a guilty look across his face. He had not meant to call her that. Truly he hadn't. Standing there and seeing her cry was the worst thing he'd ever had to do. And even worse than that was knowing that he had been the one to cause it.

"Please 'Mione, I'm sorry," he whispered as he pulled her into a hug.

"I forgive you," she said back, returning his embrace.

"You do?" he asked, relieved more than he cared to admit.

"Yes, and I understand why you said it," she took a deep breath, "and you can call me a… mudblood, when you have to. Just promise me you'll never, ever mean it."

"I promise."

" **You claimed to be her friend! Why the hell did you call her a mudblood every day?! I know she gave you permission, but that shouldn't have mattered!" came Ron's voice.**

" **Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, again, "I said he could. I don't remember it, but I did."**

 **Draco smiled at her, and a not so unpleasant shiver went down her spine. She couldn't help but feel this was right somehow. But she didn't say anything. Because what could she say? She was completely confused, her heart yearned for something just out of reach, and her once enemy seemed like the only person who could calm her racing mind.**

Third year now, and they were standing outside in a care of magical creatures class, with Hagrid as teacher. Harry Potter had just returned from a flight with the hippogriff, Buckbeak. And Draco had just strolled up to it, claiming that it was harmless. Offended, the beast went to attack until the professor intervened. Luckily the boy had only received a scratch. Only a scratch but it felt like his arm had been set on fire. He rolled on the floor, yelling in pain.

Hermione decided to wait until they were alone before lecturing her friend, and focused on trying to keep the concern for his safety from showing on her features. Hagrid stood in the middle of the clearing, flustered and less in control than a teacher should be, until Hermione told him to take him to the hospital wing. Shocked looks adorned her friend's faces. Since when did she care about Malfoy's wellbeing?

"Just because I don't like him, doesn't mean I want him to die."

Draco Malfoy lay in the hospital wing with his arm resting in a sling. His bed was surrounded by his Slytherin cronies, and a tearful Pansy Parkinson hanging on his every word as he recounted the story of his hippogriff induced injury. He had already sent an owl to his father, explaining the situation, and was sure that something could be done about it. Not necessarily death for the violent animal, but some sort of restraints for it during lessons.

Then, as the snivelling Pansy clutched his good arm, Hermione stormed into the room. Their heads shot up immediately, and sneers plastered across their faces.

"What do you want, Granger?" Malfoy asked, secretly pleased that she was there, but also terrified at the angry look she gave him. This was not pretend. She was genuinely angry.

"Yeah, go away, mudblood," Pansy cried, not noticing Draco's barely visible flinch at that word.

"No, I will not. Madame Pomfrey said that you must all leave the hospital wing right now, or she'll be forced to get Professor Snape," came her hot reply.

Grumbling, the Slytherins exited the wing, casting irritated glances at the Gryffindor. When they had all left, Draco relaxed and grinned at his friend. At least until he remembered that she was clearly upset, and he paled slightly.

"H-hello Hermione, what brings you here?" he asked feebly.

"Hmm, let me think," she replied mockingly, "why might I be here?"

He gulped. "To get rid of Parkinson?"

"No, guess again."

"You like the cleanliness of the hospital wing?"

"One more try."

"Because you missed me?"

"No. I'm here, Malfoy, because there is now an acknowledged rumour going round that Buckbeak is going to be put to death for scratching your arm."

"What?"

"Is this true? Because I heard that you wrote to your father requesting the immediate execution of that innocent creature!"

"No! I asked for some sort of restraint, not death!" he cried, "I'm not that heartless!"

"You-you didn't ask for his death?"

"Of course not."

"Oh. Then why on earth were you stupid enough to think that sauntering up to a hippogriff was a good idea?! You could have been seriously hurt! I was too worried about you as it was, if you had been hurt worse, I could have cried. We barely kept our friendship hidden today. What happens next time, when it's worse?!" she all but yelled at him.

"How was I to know that the bloody thing would attack me?"

"By listening to the professor for once!"

"But he's an absolu – "

"Don't you dare say anything bad about Hagrid!"

"But he – "

"No. He's my friend."

"But – "

"Don't you dare finish that sentence Draco Malfoy!"

"Fine."

"Now, is your arm feeling any better?"

"Yes. But it still hurts. Madame Pomfrey says it'll need to stay in the sling for a week or so."

" **You didn't order Buckbeak to be killed?" Harry asked in surprise.**

" **What does it matter? You bloody saved him anyway."**

" **Well, yes, but it still makes a difference. We may have an understanding Malfoy, but it's nice to know that you weren't quite as much of a prick that we thought you were."**

" **Right… Thanks for that, Potter."**

" **I, well, no problem."**

" **Harry! Whose side are you on?" Ron cried.**

" **I'm just saying, he isn't as bad as you give him credit for," replied the best man.**

 **Hermione turned to Draco. "What happens next?" she asked quietly, while the groom and his friend were bickering.**

" **The Yule Ball," he said, slowly.**

Hermione, for the first time in a long while, felt pretty. No. more than that. She felt beautiful. Her hair was gracefully curled, and pinned to her head. Her periwinkle dress flattered her usually hidden figure and accented her glittering brown eyes. A shy smile crept onto her lips as she descended the stairs and watched as jaws hit the floor.

Victor Krum offered her his arm, and they glided into the hall to ready themselves for the opening dance. The gobsmacked stares of her peers didn't bother her. She was just glad to finally have some positive attention that was only hers, and not shared with Harry and Ron. Not that she minded, but it was nice to actually be recognised as a girl, not just a member of the golden trio.

She glanced at Draco, who smirked as she twirled her way across the floor. He had always known that she was gorgeous. And it had pained him a few weeks ago to hex her teeth to grow. He had not wanted to, but she had asked him earlier if he could, so that she had a legitimate excuse to slightly reduce the size of her two front teeth. She didn't need it, he thought, but she had insisted. It helped both his best friend and his reputation.

A few hours later he came across her sitting on the stairs with tears falling from her eyes. He checked that there was no one around, took hold of her hand, and led her to an empty classroom.

"Mione, what's wrong?" he said gently.

She hugged him tightly and wept on him. And he just held her. Saying nothing. She would talk when she was ready. About half an hour later, they were still in the same position. Hermione's mascara had run and she looked at her reflection in the window, cringing at what she saw. She muttered a charm as she waved her wand, her makeup righting itself immediately.

"He ruined everything," she told him. Her voice was hoarse and cracked as she spoke.

"I'll punch his lights out," he said seriously, "International Quidditch star or not."

"What? No, it wasn't Victor. He was perfectly lovely."

"Then who was it, Mione?" he asked.

"Ron," she said as she started to cry again.

"I'll kill him. I swear to Merlin, I'll kill him," he replied angrily. How dare the Weasel ruin his Hermione's night?! Wait, _his Hermione_? He supposed that in some respects he did consider her his. In that she was his best friend, and the only person here at Hogwarts that he actually cared about.

"Thank you. But it's alright. If he does anything else you won't have to, I'll already have done it," she laughed.

He held her close to him again. And was upset to hear her whisper.

"Why am I so undesirable, Draco? Why does he have to spoil everything?"

He drew back from their embrace and looked her squarely in the eye.

"You are not undesirable. You are the most beautiful, talented, smart, funny, kind, passionate witch I know. If Weasley, Potter, Krum, or any other idiot can't see that, then they're either blind or stupid. Because I have never met anyone as desirable as you Hermione Granger."

"You mean it?" she asked.

"Of course. How did you feel walking down the stairs earlier?"

"I felt, I felt, I felt special. And beautiful, and admired, and envied."

"That is how I see you every single day. Beautiful, admirable, enviable, special, and so many more things."

"I felt happy. Up there, when I felt all those other things. Draco, I felt happy."

"You deserve to be happy Mione," he said, leaning his face closer to hers until their lips were almost touching.

"Do I?" she asked quietly, desperately willing him to kiss her.

"More than anyone else in the world," he replied, closing the gap between them.

The kiss was not what either had been expecting. There wasn't any fireworks, or electric sparks, or any romantic background music. But there was a certain rightness about it. A warmth that spread over them as their lips met. It was short and sweet. And both parties felt that it was a little too brief.

"So, um, you, uh, I mean we, um…" Hermione stammered.

"Yeah…" Draco replied awkwardly.

"I should probably get back to the dance," she said quietly.

"Oh, um, me too."

But he stayed frozen where he stood as she was about to exit the classroom. He suddenly spoke up, before she had a chance to leave.

"So we can be secretly dating now, instead of being secretly friends, right?" he asked.

She smiled. "Yes."

" **B-but…!" Ron spluttered.**

 **Draco smirked. That really was one of his favourite memories, not only was it their first kiss, but it could also have been considered the weasel's fault.**

 **The bride looked both confused and almost blissful after watching the display. As if she could not decide if she wanted to believe what she was seeing. But she felt a sad sensation in her stomach that made it seem like she was witnessing something she'd seen before. A sense of déjà vu.**

" **This is ridiculous! Why on earth are we continuing to listen to this crap?!" the groom cried.**

" **I don't know, Ron," Hermione whispered, "I remember you upsetting me quite vividly, but after that I can't remember much at all. Except for me crying a lot, and a really hazy figure comforting me. I'd just assumed that it was Victor, and that I had just drunk too much punch that night."**

" **Just because I upset you when you were fifteen years old, doesn't mean that you dated Malfoy!"**

" **Ron, please calm down, we'll get to the bottom of this," Harry reasoned, ever the peace keeper.**

" **And even if this was all true, why the hell has he chosen now to tell her?!" he yelled, "It's been three years since the war ended, why haven't you done anything yet?! If you bloody cared about her, why would you wait until her god damned wedding day?!"**

 **A woman to his left cleared her throat and stepped forward. She was the mother of the bride, dressed in pastel purple and wearing a matching hat.**

" **I believe that I can answer that one," Dr Granger informed.**

 **Hermione looked at her mother with a quizzical expression. "Mum…?" she tentatively asked.**

" **Well, you see, after you got back from Malfoy manor in your last year, I received a letter from Draco. He told me what he had done, and why, and we agreed that it was the best for you. But I've never seen you happier than when you were with him, and I didn't want you to someday remember and regret marrying the wrong person. So I told him about the wedding. I asked him to help you remember him."**

 **The congregation stared at her, the only people who seemed to know what she was talking about, were her husband, and Draco himself.**

" **Wait, what did he do?" Hermione asked, glancing at him.**

" **I think that he's getting to that. You might need more context before he does though."**

It was a Hogsmede weekend and the castle grounds were completely empty, save for two students sat beneath the tree by the lake. A blonde boy of around fifteen was reading a novel to the bushy haired girl who lay with her head on his lap. She smiled contentedly as he absentmindedly stroked her curls, and sighed as his soothing voice washed over her.

"This is crap," he said, as he turned the page, "how can you read this rubbish?"

"Pride and Prejudice is a muggle classic! How dare you insult it that way!" she cried, in mock offense.

"I'm just saying that I bet this Wickham fellow isn't all she's got him cracked up to be, and most of her sisters are imbeciles, and don't get me started on her mother!" he exclaimed, frustrated at the fictional characters, "And I don't understand why she doesn't realise that Mr Darcy is so obviously the man that she is in love with! You can tell from the first time they meet! I know that they're complete opposites, but everyone knows that opposites attract!"

She smirked as her boyfriend continued his tirade on the stupidity of the characters, secretly delighted that he found it so natural that Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Darcy should be together, for she saw in that couple so many similarities to themselves.

"I'll tell you a secret," whispered Hermione once he had calmed a little, "She ends up with Wickham."

She giggled a little at the horror filling his grey eyes. The emotion in them flitted between disgust, disappointment and disbelief, which amused her greatly. She knew that when he found out that she was lying to him he would not be very happy. He'd probably pin her down and tickle her until she screamed for him to stop, because he knew exactly where she was most ticklish, and exactly how to torment her. Everyone in the muggle world knew that Mr Darcy and Elizabeth belong together, it was common literary knowledge. They were among the many star-crossed lovers; Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, Romeo and Juliet, Cathy and Heathcliff, Orpheus and Eurydice, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy, and she could go on, but she hoped that perhaps they would join the list one day, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.

The pair continued reading in the sun, until the book was over. Then, true to Hermione's prediction, Draco turned to her and whispered "I'm not going to forgive this easily, I think you might need to be punished." And promptly tickled her so much that tears rolled down her cheeks, she laughed uncontrollably and yelled for him to stop. They rested for a while longer, before strolling around the vast expanse of the black lake.

As they walked, she looked at him.

"Why are you looking at me?" asked Draco.

"Because I missed you," she replied.

"Missed me? I see you every day."

"You know what I mean. We haven't spent as much time together, recently."

"I know. I wish we could spend more time together, I really do. But you know it would be dangerous for both of us if we said anything. We can be together more over the holidays, I promise."

"Yes, about that, I've been meaning to ask you something," she paused, waiting for his reaction.

"What is it?" he questioned.

"Well, you know I'm spending the last two weeks at the Weasley's house," she started.

"If you're going to ask me to spend my summer with Weaselbee, don't even think about it! I care about you 'Mione, but I hate that idiot."

"No, no, I don't think that you and Ron should be within four feet of each other. And don't call him that!"

"Why can't I? He calls me Ferret!"

She tried to stop that small chuckle that left her mouth, but it would not be repressed. He glared at her. But this only made her laugh more.

"It wasn't funny, 'Mione! It was humiliating."

"Well, I agree that it was wrong of Professor Moody, but it was kind of hilarious to witness, and you shouldn't have been tormenting Harry in the first place!"

"He started it!"

"No he didn't. Now stop acting like a child."

He knew she was right. So instead of surrendering, he quickly changed the subject.

"So, what was it that you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh, um, yes," she said, suddenly becoming rather nervous, "I was just wondering if, perhaps, if you wouldn't mind, if you could, um, maybe, err, consider meeting my parents this summer?"

He stared at her, and her face flushed red. At this point she panicked and started to babble.

"I understand if you don't want to, obviously, I just thought that it might be nice, because we're dating and all, and I've already told them so much about you, and they know we were friends, and I just wanted it to be fun, and if you don't want to that's fine, I get it, it's awkward meeting the parents for the first time, and I know they'll love you, and I don't expect you to let me meet your parents, because we know that they won't approve of me, but even so – " she was cut off by something obstructing her lips.

She pulled back in shock to see Draco smirking at the way in which she was rendered silent as he kissed her.

"I'd love to meet your parents. You know why you can't meet my father. It would be too dangerous. But I know that my mother would love you. Perhaps we could all meet up, in the muggle world of course, and have lunch, or something?" he suggested.

She smiled and kissed him soundly on the lips. Now she remembered why she was dating her best friend.

 **Draco smiled fondly at the memory. The rest of that day had been spent laughing and kissing, and kissing and laughing. They had had no idea about the impending death of Cedric Diggory, or the return of the Dark Lord, or the unhappiness that would unfold before them.**

" **We never did have that lunch, did we?" Hermione sighed.**

" **What?" he asked, surprised that she had remembered, "N-no, we didn't."**

" **How did you know that, Herms?" enquired Harry, quietly.**

" **I-I don't know," she replied.**

 **Ron was fuming. This was his fiancée, so close to being his wife, and she was being taken from him. It's true, he was not as in love with her as he used to be. And indeed, were it not for the fact that society seemed to force them upon one another, he probably would have ended up with someone else. He did care about her. She had been one of his closest friends for years. But he did not want to be beaten again, especially not by Malfoy. He never won at things. He was second to his best friend. The last in a line of boys, only to be beaten at being the youngest by his sister. And now his own fiancée was being wooed by his old enemy. He wanted to win this time. Of course, being the loyal friend that he was, and he was nothing if not loyal, if she chose Malfoy over him, he would let her. For she was still important to him, and her happiness came first. But he was sure going to fight for her.**

" **What the hell? If you didn't meet her parents, why do they know you?" he demanded.**

" **I did meet them, Weasley, just not then."**

Umbridge patrolled the halls, pacing before them like an army commander. Her pink shoes squeaked slightly on the stone floors, and the pink bow in her hair was just the icing on the cake to her sparkling personality. Actually, she was horrible. And the bow was just an unnecessary embellishment on her general revolting presence.

As the witch paraded in front of them, he loosened his grip on Hermione's arm. He didn't want to hurt her, and she knew he was only doing what he was forced to do. He snaked his arm around her under the pretence of stopping her escaping, but really it was a small act of comfort in what was otherwise a somewhat alarming situation.

"Draco," she whispered, as Umbridge brutally questioned Harry.

"If you're trying to confess all the unspoken feelings that you have for me, 'Mione, now isn't exactly the best time," joked Draco, trying to calm his girlfriend's erratically beating heart.

"As much as I would love to boost your already enormous ego, I actually wanted to apologise," she replied, sarcastically.

"Apologise? For what?" he said, confused for a moment before she elbowed him in the chin and run up to Umbridge.

"Oh, that," he mumbled to himself, rolling his eyes at her apparent stupidity.

She told the toad-like teacher about a secret weapon that Dumbledore was hiding in the forbidden forest, something so powerful that even the dementors of Azkaban did not stand a chance against them. If Dumbledore really did have such a thing, such a weapon, why hadn't he used it yet? He could end this war now. But then he looked at Hermione. She was chewing the inside of her bottom lip, she was swapping her weight from foot to foot, and her in her fists were the ends of her jumper sleeves were balled up and creased so badly that no muggle iron would flatten them. She was nervous, she was sacred, and she was lying. Anybody who knew her well, and knew what signs to look for, would be able to tell. But the witch didn't. And she was led by Hermione and Potter to the forest.

As they left, he stared after her in concern. It must have looked like a sneer of derision or something of the like, because the next thing he knew, he was hit by a shockingly good bat bogey hex. Ginny Weasley stood there looking like she had won the house cup, the quidditch cup, and the tri-wizard tournament all in one day.

" **I'm still proud of that hex," the bridesmaid said, smugly, "some of my best hex work."**

" **It wasn't bad, Weasley," Draco conceded.**

 **Harry glanced at Ginny with a look of pride on his face. She nodded back.**

" **That was a good one, actually," Neville chimed in, "even better in person."**

" **Alright, alright," Malfoy said, "Weasley's skill at hexing people wasn't the point. The point was that Hermione warned me she was about to hit me. You don't do that if you hate someone."**

" **You still didn't show us how you met Herms' parents," Ron scoffed.**

" **No, I didn't," he said, "Because it came after that, and I'm doing this chronologically. Do you have an issue with that?"**

" **No, proceed."**

Draco stood at the white wooden gate that connected the edge of the front lawn to the steps of the porch with a narrow cobbled path. He swallowed visibly in both anxiety and anticipation. He didn't know what she had said to about him, but whether it was good or bad, he was apprehensive. Meeting the parents of your girlfriend is never easy, but in circumstances like these, it was a million times worse. He felt as though he was putting them in danger, and he couldn't let anything happen to them, because they meant a great deal to Hermione.

He pushed open the gate. Walking past the pristinely kept lawn and the variety of colourful flowers that the Grangers had surrounding the fence, he was terrified. Never had he felt so uneasy at entering a new place, even as a first year at Hogwarts, he had not once felt like the building was anything but home. This small, detached house that looked like something from the front of a biscuit tin felt warm and welcoming, but he was so tense that he had to pause for a moment before he could ring the doorbell. But he did it.

A middle aged woman answered the door, her face lighting up into a motherly smile. Her hair was a chestnut brown and she had it tied back, to keep it off of her face. There was a smudge of flour on one of her cheeks, and the smell of freshly baked bread seeped through the door, and Draco smiled back at her.

"You must be Draco!" she said happily, "It's so nice to finally meet you. We've heard so much about you. Please, come in, come in."

She ushered him into the hallway, telling him to throw his shoes down anywhere and to come into the kitchen. When he entered, a man with curly dark blonde hair and a pair of spectacles sliding down his nose, was sat at the table, doing the crossword in this morning's newspaper. The man stood and walked towards him. Draco Malfoy would deny it to the end of his days, but Mr Granger (who was significantly older than him and a few inches shorter) at that moment was the most terrifying sight that he had ever seen. Which is incredible considering that he had grown up around death eaters and Lord Voldemort was currently staying in his home as an honoured guest. The older man glared at him for a few seconds, before smiling at him and laughing at the look of terror plastered on the young Malfoy's face.

"Calm down Draco, I'm not going to hurt you. Hermione said that you were a bit nervous, I just wanted to scare you a little," he laughed heartily, "I'm Jackson Granger, it's nice to meet you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Sir," Draco replied with relief.

"No, no," he said, "Call me Jackson. None of this 'Sir' business."

"Oh don't be so cruel to the boy," said Mrs Granger, "Please, sit down Draco. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Yes please, Mrs Granger," he answered, producing a bouquet of beautiful flowers, "And I got these for you, to say thank you for having me over."

"What a sweetheart," she exclaimed, "I'll put these in some water. And it's Ava, dear. Just Ava."

Just then, Hermione came bounding down the stairs and into the kitchen. She hugged Draco tightly, and helped her mother make some tea. The rest of the day went smoothly, the conversation flowed effortlessly and Draco was a huge success with the Grangers.

As he was waving goodbye to Hermione's parents, after what felt like fifty "Thank you for having me"s and "Please come again, Draco"s and "How wonderful to meet you"s, he felt like he had conquered the world. It was the grandest feeling he had ever had, and the way that Hermione had looked at him so lovingly was prize enough for him.

"Thank you for coming, Draco," she said as they stood on the porch, "It meant a lot to me. And it really took my mind off of… Sirius."

"I understand 'Mione, I'm glad I could help," he soothed, and pulled her into a gentle hug.

"I love you," she whispered softly. She didn't expect him to return her sentiments vocally, she knew that he loved her too. But he was not one for expressing his emotions aloud, so she was pleasantly surprised at his next words.

"I love you too, Hermione," he sighed.

Her brown eyes met his grey ones. She kissed him slow and soft, but it was like nothing they had ever experienced. Draco had not known that one action could be so full of love and kindness and compassion, so raw but delicate, so – for lack of a better word – magical. In that moment he knew that there was no going back, he was completely in love with her and he would never recover from the fall.

He departed then, with no way of knowing that only three weeks later he would be forced to become part of Voldemort's team of death eaters.

 **She stared at him then. For a while she had been refusing to look him in the eye, but it seemed appropriate then. In fact, everyone looked at him then.**

" **What?" he said, "I'm not heartless you know. I do have emotions too."**

" **It took her parents a few visits before I could call them by their first names, and that was just as her friend," Ron exclaimed, gobsmacked.**

" **Even I took two or three times meeting them, before they weren't Mr and Mrs Granger," said Harry, "And they're like family to me."**

" **Well, we took an instant shine to Draco, for some reason. He was just different, and we'd seen the effect he'd had on our daughter. She was happy," Jackson admitted.**

" **I loved you," whispered Hermione, in disbelief.**

" **Yes, you did," Draco replied quietly.**

" **A-and you…" she ventured.**

" **Very much so," he confirmed, "But then they forced me to take the dark mark. They threatened my mother with the cruciatus curse, if I didn't comply. You were horrified."**

" **Did… did I leave you?" she asked, tentatively.**

" **No. You weren't horrified at me. You were horrified at them, for forcing an innocent by to join them, and for setting me an unspeakable task."**

" **What task?"**

" **To murder Albus Dumbledore," he said, his voice shaking at the memory of it, "And you and I both knew that I couldn't do it, so we went and told Dumbledore himself. And he told us not to worry, and planned his whole death at Snape's hand, because he would not let me become a murderer at seventeen years old."**

 **His body shook. So she walked closer to him and placed her arms around his shoulders, pulling his head into the crook of her neck.**

" **Herms, what are you doing?" Ron asked, troubled.**

" **Whether this is the truth or not, he needs to be comforted, Ronald."**

" **You've done this before," Draco told her, "After we left his office."**

" **I did?" she replied, "I think I remember. Did I roll up your sleeve?"**

" **Yes."**

The two made their way down the darkened hallway. The sound of their feet rang out in the silence, as they searched for a spot to sit and talk. This place came in the form of a large windowsill, where they sat facing one another. Tears rolled down his pale cheeks, and she held both of his hands in hers.

"It's all going to be alright now, you'll see," she said.

"How?" came his broken voice.

"Dumbledore is going to fix this mess. He will not let you become a murderer."

"But what will happen to my mother when the Dark Lord discovers that I failed?"

"Snape will make it look like you had no choice. I promise you that it will be alright."

"How do you know?"

"Because everyone knows that good always triumphs over evil."

"This isn't a story book, 'Mione," he said, hoarsely, "Life doesn't work that way."

"I know that, but even if it happens today, tomorrow, or a hundred years from now, we will win this war. If we didn't think that the good side would win, we wouldn't keep reading the book. Well, it's the same thing here. If we didn't think that we could win, we wouldn't be fighting."

"I suppose so, but he's just so dangerous."

"Yes, he is. I've never loathed anyone more. I didn't think that it was possible to hate someone more than Umbridge, but I do."

"Me too. More than that pink coated toad."

"I mean it, Draco. I didn't think that he had any redeemable qualities to begin with, but my hatred for him runs deeper now. He will pay for what he's done to you."

"'Mione," he started.

"No. He doesn't deserve this life. He's damaged yours. And no one, no one is as deserving of happiness as you are."

"Even Potter?" he joked.

"Ok, maybe Harry, for all the suffering that he has endured," she agreed, "But you deserve happiness too. Because you are kind and sweet and good."

"Your opinion of me is too high, Granger. I'm not good."

"You're not an angel, I'll grant you that, but you're not a bad person, Draco Malfoy."

"How would you know what I am?" he challenged, leaning a little closer to her.

"Because I know you," she said confidently, hugging him close to her, his head resting between her shoulder and her neck, arms wrapped protectively around him.

"I'm not on your side, 'Mione. I'm a death eater. Look at this thing, branded on my skin," he cried, as she started rolling up his sleeve, displaying the dark mark embedded on his arm. It disgusted him. Repulsed him. Sickened him.

"This mark doesn't define you," she said, "Nobody is fundamentally bad, or inherently good. Soon you will have to make a choice between what you have been made to be and who you really are. On that day, it won't matter if you've got this monstrosity on your arm, what will matter is where you stand in this battle. Someone as influential as you can't be a neutral party, they won't let you."

He looked up at her lovingly. He knew what would happen in the end.

"I am a neutral party. I shall remain a neutral party. But you should know this. On that day, when good and evil finally clash together, and even Hogwarts isn't immune to its destruction, and the entire world seems to at an end, I will take a side. I will be on whatever side allows me to stand next to you. Because I'd stand with you in anything, be it a queue for a book store, a disagreement over ice cream flavours, or even this bloody war."

" **You did fight with us at the Battle of Hogwarts," she remembered, "I didn't realise why though. I thought that perhaps you'd finally come to your senses."**

" **I didn't need to come to my senses, I never believed in all that blood crap anyway."**

" **But you kept your promise, even if I couldn't remember you making it. You stood with me," she said. She released him from her hold, to look at him properly.**

" **Of course I did," he replied.**

" **Wait, that's why you helped us?" Ron blurted.**

" **I told you he was a changed person, Ron," Harry sighed, exasperated at his best friend's sudden realisation.**

" **Hang on, I thought that you spent most of your sixth year pining over Ron, because he was with Lavender," Ginny recalled.**

 **They all looked at Draco. How would he answer this one?**

" **That's easy. It was a ploy to distract you from us. The night that she sat crying with Potter, we had had a massive argument about whether or not I should ask Dumbledore for help. Obviously she won that one. But we didn't talk for a good four days. It was horrible."**

 **There was silence as they digested the news. But this was broken by a dismayed gasp from the bride.**

" **If this is sixth year, the next is seventh. But we spent seventh hunting horcruxes. The only time we would have seen each other is… is…" she stared at him in alarm.**

 **He nodded gravely. Then Harry and Ron caught on.**

" **No. No, we are not watching that. You can't make her relive that again!" Harry cried.**

 **The crowd murmured in confusion. Ron said angrily, "Malfoy Manor."**

" **I'm not going to make her see that again!" he yelled, "There is no way that I could watch that myself, I hate every moment of it."**

" **You just stood by and watched Bellatrix torture her, you monster," Ron spat.**

" **No he didn't," Hermione said. The two stared at her in shock. "Draco was not there. His mother dragged him out of the room. She put a silencing charm on the door, so that no one could hear him. She knew he would try and stop Bellatrix. And doing so would have ended up with us all dead."**

" **I could hear every scream that she forced from you. I pounded on the door, hexed it so badly that there will forever be marks on it. I yelled and cried and screamed for her to stop. I tried to get to you. I tried so hard. I'll never forgive myself for what I couldn't prevent."**

" **You didn't mean for it to happen. And you saved us, didn't you?" she asked, "Dobby rescued them from the dungeons, but you apparated me. I couldn't recall how I got to Shell Cottage. No one else knew either. I just stumbled up to the door."**

" **Yes. It was me. I went round the outside of the manor and broke in through a window. The others were too busy to notice me. I told Aberforth to send Dobby to take you all to Shell Cottage. I took you myself."**

" **Why don't I remember you, Draco?" Hermione questioned, an edge to her voice, as if she was so close to figuring it out but the thought remained at the back of her mind, not able to break free of the haze.**

" **Because I… I… well, you should see for yourself."**

The two figures appeared on the beach, out of thin air, with a loud crack. They sat on the sand as he pulled her tightly against his chest.

"Talk to me 'Mione, talk to me," he cried, "Let me heal you, please!"

"I… I can't f-feel m-my arm. Sh-she hurt me Dr-Draco. Sh-she… m-m-mudblood."

He glanced down and saw the damage that his aunt had done to her arm. The word 'mudblood' was carved into her creamy skin, still dripping from where the enchanted knife had pierced it. Anger built in his chest and he saw red for a few seconds. Family or not, she would die for hurting his 'Mione.

"I-I'm glad you're here. I th-think that you needed to get out of there," she stumbled.

"Me too. But I have to go back there, you know. Or they'll realise that I'm gone, and they'll hurt you even more," he told her.

"N-no! It's too dangerous!" she yelled, regaining some of her fire.

"I know, but I will not let them hurt you anymore! I can't see you suffer again!"

"Draco, I'm a mudblood, they're always going to try and harm me. Stay with me, be safe with me. Look at my arm. This is all they see me as. I'm scum."

"Someone wise once told me that the marks and scars on our arms do not define us. We all get a choice between good and evil, importance and scum, right and wrong. You are no more a mudblood than I am a death eater. They can't tell us who we are. Because you, Hermione Granger, are not scum. You are the single most amazing person I know, and I will keep you safe."

"They don't see it like that! To them I am nothing. They're going to hurt me if you go back or not!"

"But I won't have them hurt you because of me! I would never forgive myself if I was the reason that they harmed you! Never!"

"You can't go back. I'll tell the Order of the Phoenix about us. They'll find somewhere for us to go. They'll protect you and me together!"

"No. The death eaters will know. They won't stop until they find us. I have to protect you. I have to leave."

"I won't let you. I'll keep hold of you for as long as it takes. Please, I need you with me."

She kept a tight grip on him as they lay there. He knew that she wouldn't yield, so he realised that the only way to protect her was to leave her more permanently. He never thought it would come to this, and he wished that there was some other way. Any other way. But there wasn't any that he could see. And even though he wanted to be part of her precious life, he would leave it completely if it meant that they would not harm her because of him.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he lifted his wand.

"I'm so sorry," he said, tears dripping down his face.

"Draco. Please don't do this," she whispered, knowing what he was about to do.

"I'm sorry. I have to."

"Please. I don't want to forget you. I need you. Please, you can't do this," she begged as she cried.

"I have to. I have to protect you. You don't understand," he tried to reason with her.

"But you promised that you're on my side, always," she told him.

"I am on your side. I will always be on your side. But this has to be done. I must do this," he said.

"Please," she breathed.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione," replied Draco, his voice breaking as he said her name.

"I love you."

"Obliviate."

Her eyes clouded over as he removed himself from both her embrace and her memory. It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. It felt like his heart was physically ripping in two, the pain in his chest growing and growing until he would one day explode. A weight sat on him. He hated himself for this. He hated them for giving him no other choice. And he hated her because he loved her. Because she had such an enormous impact on him. Because she was the best thing that ever happened to him. And the worst. Because she was his.

She stirred slightly from her still position on the sand, causing him to jolt back to reality. He disapparated back to Malfoy Manor, but had anyone been standing on the beach at that moment, they would have heard a soft whisper in the wind where he had just stood.

"I love you too, Hermione."

 **His eyes were glued to the ground. He didn't know how to face her after this.**

" **You stole my memories," she said. This was a statement, not a question.**

" **Yes," he answered anyway.**

" **Because you loved me."**

" **Still do. But you're marrying Weasley now, so it doesn't matter," he told her.**

" **So all those things you did during the battle, they were for Hermione?" Harry asked.**

" **Yes," Draco said, "I fought on your side of the war, because it was the right side. The good side. I promised her."**

 **Ron looked at him. "That explains all the deflected spells, and protective enchantments, and why you refused to help Crabbe in the Room of Requirement."**

" **I did it for her."**

 **Then the ginger haired man turned to face his conflicted fiancée. She gazed steadily into his blue eyes, apprehensive about his next response.**

" **Herms, I love you, you know that. But we both know that we'd kill each other if we ever got married. That's why we've put it off for so long. I really wanted to beat Malfoy at last, but your happiness means so much more to me. You're one of my best friends, Herms, let's keep it that way."**

 **The woman flung her arms around him in a tight hug. She cared for him so much that it pained her to hurt him this way, but something about this decision seemed right. Everyone stared at Ron in shock. Then he spoke to Draco.**

" **You'll always be the amazing bouncing ferret to me, Malfoy. But clearly you love her. So you better take care of her, because she is worth more than anything you can ever imagine. You have her memories. I think it's time you give them back."**

 **He stepped back, allowing the blonde to stand before Hermione with a vial of swirling silver liquid in his hand. These were her memories. He handed them to her without a word. She took the cork out of the vial and poured the substance over her head. It all came flooding back to her at once, and she grabbed Draco's collar and pulled him into a deep, loving kiss.**

" **Draco Malfoy, how dare you obliviate me!" she screamed.**

" **I, um, it was the right thing to do?" he asked.**

" **I swear to Merlin, you are in so much trouble!"**

 **Harry chuckled, Ron smiled, the crowd cheered. The general consensus among them was that they were glad that she wasn't mad at them.**

" **If you ever do something like that again, I'll hex you into next century, do you understand me?!"**

" **I missed you too 'Mione," he laughed.**

 **But his laugh dies quickly once she said "It's not funny, Malfoy, I swear you'll regret this."**

 **Then she took his hand and dragged him out of the church, leaving a group of chuckling people behind them.**

" **Good luck to him," said Harry.**

 **Outside, she kissed him again. Her threats still stood, of course, but she knew that this time, he wouldn't leave her. Because they could never be parted like that again.**

" **I love you, Hermione," he whispered.**

" **I love you too, Draco," she replied softly.**

A blonde haired boy stood with his parents on platform 9 ¾ at Kingscross Station. It was his first year at Hogwarts and his nerves were getting the better of him.

"Don't worry dear," said his mother, "you'll make lots of friends, and have such a wonderful time that you'll never want to come home."

"Yes, and Slytherin house will help make you great. Avoid the muggleborns and you'll make us proud," was his father's words of wisdom to him.

He gulped. All he had ever wanted was to make Lucius Malfoy, his father, proud of him. But he knew in his heart that it would be a long shot, especially when his views on blood purity weren't exactly synonymous with his father's.

But his mother hugged him again and whispered that it didn't matter which house he was in, nor who his friends were, she would always be proud of him. And that was enough for him.

Then, as his eyes scanned the platform full of excited children and tearful parents, he noticed a scared looking girl of around his age. She gripped the handle of her trunk tightly and chewed nervously on her bottom lip. She was the most wonderful girl he'd ever seen, despite her slightly large front teeth and busy brown hair. Her parents looked around in awe, they were clearly muggles. In that moment, he realised that they might never be friends. This thought saddened him. She would do great things, he knew, and he wanted to be a part of them.

There was a boy across the platform, with platinum blonde hair and a regal looking family. But he looked sad for some reason. She didn't know why, but she had to suppress the urge to go and comfort him. It was silly, she thought, to want to comfort a complete stranger. But she felt like she'd known him for a long time. But she didn't even know his name.

He glanced at her again. This time their eyes met and the smiled. They both looked away, and she blushed a little. Draco and Hermione both looked again. This would be a long journey.


End file.
